


The Hart of Wonderland

by hiddencait



Series: 2013 Fic Finishing Challenge [2]
Category: Alice (2009), Primeval
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, Gen, cat cheshire is a cartwheeling plot device
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-03
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 11:16:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/621526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiddencait/pseuds/hiddencait
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>King Jack Heart is trying to right an old family wrong; Stephen Hart is beginning to believe he's died and gone straight to hell. Throw in a Cheshire, Hatter, and a variety of scaly beasts, and things are just going to get more complicated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Of Rabbitholes and Dinosaurs

**Author's Note:**

> Another for my 2013 challenge crossposted over from ffn.
> 
> This was intended to be a shameless "saving Stephen" fic that ended up taking on actual emotional content and semi plot. Also Cat Cheshire was just too much fun and ended up going from side character to the main cast in very VERY little time. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

_The King of Hearts strode into the laboratory, stifling a cringe at the bare white room._

" _You sent for me?"_

" _Yes, Sire. We have found him."_

" _Are you sure?"_

" _Of course."_

" _Very well, then. Bring him in."_

" _Rabbit-hole is locked on. Initializing in 10...9...8..."_

….......

Stephen backed away from the door slowly, trying to keep calm as long as he could despite the predators that circled him. He kept his eyes locked on Cutter's, drawing a painful sort of strength from the familiar sight. He didn't bother to look and see if Helen also watched through the other window; it really didn't matter now. She'd duped him... again. That didn't matter, either.

Cutter was alive, and would stay that way even if it took Stephen's life. And it would; the snarls and rumbling growls around him assured him of that. Still, he'd lived most of his life in one dangerous situation or another. Certain death wasn't that terrible a thought anymore. But the deaths of Cutter and the others on his team? That was unthinkable. Stephen had broken when Helen told him Lester had killed them all, had shattered past mending or so he'd thought. Seeing Cutter alive had been a healing revelation. For all that they fell back into bickering, he'd finally realized what he should have known all along.

He'd been alone as long as he could remember. No family, few friends, only an awkward illicit affair that did little to fill the loneliness. Then Helen disappeared, and he'd somehow inherited her husband as his mentor, then friend, then confidant and brother. God, he'd wronged his brother so many, many times. At least in this, he'd finally done something selfless.

He'd meant what he said; he couldn't take the risk of what would become of the family he'd claimed in the team, of what would be left if they lost their leader. They wouldn't lose Cutter, now.

The smilodon snarled, and Stephen swallowed. Cutter's pounding against the door was fading away leaving only the pounding of Stephen's own heartbeat in his ears.

The growling at his side grew to a fever pitch and a raptor finally lunged in, tearing into his shoulder. He screamed, the pain beyond what he'd even imagined. He shut his eyes tightly against both the pain and the sight of Cutter's horror. Then there was a roaring in his ears and the floor fell out from under him.

He let go of consciousness, welcoming death like a mercy.

……….

_Screaming filled the room, bringing panic to the previously calm and collected scientists._

" _What is that?"_

" _He's bleeding. Fetch a doctor!"_

" _Caterpillar, you swore the procedure was safe. If you've damaged-"_

" _Of course, it is safe. It seems he was damaged prior to the Rabbit-hole."_

" _Is that a jabber-"  
_

" _Do not be a fool. You know there are no jabberwocky in the Oysters' world."_

" _Then what is it?"_

" _I do not know. We must ask him when he wakes."_

" _If he wakes."_

" _He will wake, Sire. In the meantime, perhaps a scan is in order?"_

" _A scan? The Doctors are no more, Caterpillar. You know that."_

" _Of course. I was thinking, instead, perhaps a Cheshire."_

" _A Cheshire? Are there any still left…"_

" _Left whole in and of themselves? Only a very few, but one will be quite enough."_

" _Very well."_


	2. Of Cheshire Cats and Caterpillars

Looking down on the unconscious man lying in the bed before him, Jack rolled his shoulders slightly and tried not to look as anxious as he felt. Finding the exiled members of his family had sounded like a good idea when he first conceived of it, but in practice with the one surviving member bandaged and near death in the suite that had been arranged for him, it was looking far more like madness.

What had possessed him to order the man dragged from the Oysters' world to this one? Granted, it looked like the Rabbit-hole had come at a very opportune time if his cousin's wounds were any thing to go by, but the fact still remained that he'd all but kidnapped the other man. He sighed; no matter. He could hardly go back on his decision now. He would just have to wait until his cousin pulled through. Once he did, then they could... discuss the current circumstances. He mentally shook off the subject and turned to the physician hovering about.

"How is he?" The pale man wrung his hands, obviously nervous at the presence of a member of the Heart family, benevolent though Jack might try to be.

"He will live, your majesty, but his recovery might take a bit more time than usual. The damage to his shoulder was quite extensive." He eyed his patient critically. "Still, he was lucky. Had the creature hit him even a few inches over, it would likely have killed him."

"Can you tell if he is who he's supposed to be?" Jack asked absently. He could see little resemblance between the stranger and himself. Doubt began to rise, and he turned his gaze back to the physician who only shrugged.

"Is he your cousin Sire? I can hardly tell. But I can tell you one thing, he was born in Wonderland. Had he been an Oyster, those few inches wouldn't have saved him." He tilted his head and peered thoughtfully at the unconscious man. "Oysters tend to be more... fragile than Wonderlanders, after all."

Jack blinked a bit at that description. The Oysters he'd come in contact with had seemed anything but fragile. Of course, he could hardly compare every Oyster to his Alice. She was... Not _his_ Alice. He swallowed a sigh and twitched his suit sleeves straight for lack of anything else to do with his hands. The physician was still droning on as if to himself, but Jack ignored him. They weren't going to learn anything further here. Not while the other man was still unconscious. No, it seemed Caterpillar was right after all.

"Number 10." He turned to see his adviser hovering unobtrusively in the doorway, apparently awaiting this very summons.

"Sire, you-"

"Summon a Scarab." He was gratified to see that Number 10 didn't look too offended by Jack's interruption. Granted, even at his most abrupt, Jack was far more gracious than his mother. Or so he hoped.

"At once, Sire. What destination should I tell the pilot?"

"The Hospital of Dreams. I need to see a man about a Cheshire."

Jack stepped confidently from the Scarab as they reached their destination, pausing only to reach back and offer a hand as Duchess descended behind him. For a moment, his confident mask tried to falter, but if the elegant young woman noticed, she gave no sign of it. The flight with her standing next to him had been awkward to say the least. Not that Duchess was anything but polite, and indeed, she had become much more pleasant of a companion since weaning herself off his mother's teas. But things between Jack and his former fiance had become... strained. Especially after his offer of marriage to Alice. He had thought Duchess, of anyone at court, would understand his reasoning: giving a throne to the hero of the realm would only strengthen Jack's own rule, and besides, it wasn't as if Duchess had been engaged to Jack of her own free will. Whether she "cared for him" or not, Jack had been sure she would have been glad to be free of the farce of an engagement. It seemed he had judged her wrong.

He pushed the thought away as they approached the desk. The receptionist was the same one who always greeted him, and he wondered vaguely if the cockroach was also the same or a replacement.

"He's on the roof," she told them begrudgingly, turning her attention back to her pet without another word. Duchess raised a graceful eyebrow at him, but Jack could only shrug.

"Come, my dear. And try to ignore the screaming, if you can. It is enough to drive anyone mad." She surprised him then, speaking for the first time since she'd asked to come along.

"Don't worry, Jack. I've been here before; they don't bother me." He actually froze for a moment to stare at her. Why would _Duchess_ , a pampered Diamond noble, have had any need to come to this wretched place. He suddenly realized she had not paused to wait for him, instead striding confidently to the elevator at the end of the hall. He strode quickly after her, only managing to slide into the car before the doors closed behind him.

"Would you have waited for me or gone up alone?" he asked, more than a little miffed at her uncharacteristic lack of courtesy. She merely smiled serenely, her mind apparently somewhere else.

"You would have caught the next car and been only moments behind me. It would not have mattered."

"This place isn't safe, Duchess. You should-"

"Jack." Her voice was less serene now. "As I said, I've been here before. I don't need your protection here or anywhere else." He felt the words like a blow, and fought to keep his features blank. Duchess sighed. "I meant no criticism, Jack." He looked away. He supposed he should have known better than to think she wouldn't read him.

Thankfully, the elevator door opened before either of them were forced to speak again. They stepped out onto a gravel path that stretched across the huge open area, twisting its way between beds of vegetables and flowers alike. The gardens were nearly painfully organized; even the flowers grew in regimented rows. Jack swallowed; it was a sight that felt unnatural in the chaotic world of Wonderland. He seemed the only one thus affected, however; the gardeners went about their business with a strange efficiency, rarely stopping to gossip as one might have expected, only attending to their tasks with single-minded focus. Duchess ignored both the gardens and the gardeners. Jack followed her gaze to the far end of the roof where three figures stood out from the rigid order of the gardens.

"This way," she called softly over her shoulder. She then set off down the path, striding easily in the boots and soft trousers she wore. Jack suffered a moment's distraction as he compared the picture of her now, soft and approachable, to the hard glittering figure she had once been. It was strange that she actually seemed stronger now, with her frailties and gentleness in full view for all to see. He collected himself sharply, and caught up with her, his long legs giving him the only advantage he had to her purposeful gait.

They slowed as they reached the far end and the only place on the roof that seemed free of order. This small patch was the chaos he'd expected, flowers blooming willy-nilly side by side with cabbages and yellow squash and patches of cushioning green lawn. One of the figures half turned to acknowledge their approach. Caterpillar had apparently expected them. The other two figures were clearly Cheshires: a boy barely into his teens was spinning in a dizzy circle, giggling all the while. The other, an older woman with a shock of white hair was skipping to a song he couldn't catch the lyrics of, bouncing back and forth to the rhythm in his head. He shivered a bit unnerved by the mad pair. A faint movement along the wall drew his eyes, and he noted a third figure, this one stretched out on the wall itself like a feline in the sun. It was impossible to tell this one's age or gender, but he felt sure it too was a Cheshire. Who else would be mad enough to dally on a roof's edge 70 stories up?

Apparently satisfied that Jack had surveyed all he needed to, Caterpillar now turned to actually face his guests.

"Jack, Duchess. You look well, my dear." Duchess dragged her eyes away from the supine Cheshire to smile at him.

"I am well. Thank you, Doctor." He gave her a blinking nod.

"And you, Sire? Are you well with your new guest safely in the palace?" Jack shook his head tightly.

"I wish I could say that I was, Caterpillar, but as you would guess, I am quite confounded by the man." He clenched his jaw, hating to admit to any kind of weakness in front of Duchess. "The physicians say he might not wake for days; I need to know what to expect when he does."

"So you come for a Cheshire as I suggested when he first arrived." Caterpillar's voice was mild, but for someone who knew him well, there was no mistaking the censure in his voice. Jack just chose to ignore it.

"Yes I did. I must say, I am surprised to see so few. I thought most of the survivors were being kept here at the Hospital."

"They are. All of those on the roof are members of the Cheshire tribe." Caterpillar gestured back to the gardeners, his eyes faintly sorrowful behind his glasses.

"All of them... but..." Jack turned to stare, feeling his unease at the unnatural order in a shiver down his spine.

"All of them, Sire." Caterpillar began to pace slowly, half his attention on the Cheshires they now discussed, and half on the three he'd watched before. "The Cheshires are victims of the Queen, as so many others are. She sought to use them, you see. To harness their dream-sensing abilities to further control her subjects, but their madness made it impossible to force them to do her bidding. Mad as they are naturally, they feel little fear or pain, especially while in the midst of someone's dreaming."

"She dosed them, Jack. Forced Clear-Sighted and Sanity down them until they became the Cheshires you see now." Jack glanced over at Duchess, surprised she knew so much about the tribe. She still stared fixedly at the Cheshire on the wall, refusing to meet his gaze.

"You mother went too far, dosing them into overdose and horrible sanity. The effects of those you see before you are quite permanent. Some died from the effect; some took their own lives as they lost their mad genius and their gift. The rest..." Caterpillar gestured toward the gardeners again. Jack blinked as a thought occurred to them and he turned back to survey the trio behind them.

"But what about them?"

"Drugged on a careful prescription of Genius, Mania, and Elation. We discovered quite by accident that we could actually reverse the effects of the original doses with such a mixture. That was eventually how the Queen managed to actually control them." Caterpillar looked unconcerned by the fact. "She kept a special segment of the casino solely for this project."

"So, why only those three?" Jack asked quietly.

"The teas required to make the formula are almost gone. We are rationing it out as long as we can, allowing each Cheshire a few days each month to reclaim their old gifts on a strict rotation." Only now did Caterpillar seem affected, regret tinging his words. "Soon we will not even be able to offer them that."

Jack barely hid his own sorrow for the madcap tribe. It was hard to imagine Wonderland without the Cheshires. They had been known as mystics of a sort, wise fools who danced through and looked into others' dreams to dispense insight and mischief by turns. They were as much a part of the old legends as the Knights of old and the original Alice. A last symbol of a wilder, now dying age. It was not a thought Jack was comfortable with, and he shook it away, focusing on the errand that had sent him here.

"These three, which will be of the most use?" He caught Duchess throwing him a hard look, and he rushed to try and soften his demand. "Which can handle the shock of leaving here without becoming... confused?" Caterpillar's eyes were gentler than Duchess's had been, but Jack had no doubt the older man had seen through him.

"Perhaps you should gauge that for yourself. You three, come closer," he called. The two on the lawn scampered quickly over, and he introduced them. "This is Lily, and he is Griffin. The last is-"

"What a lazy Cheshire." Jack felt his heart sink. He had not expected to hear that biting scorn from Duchess again. He'd hoped she'd left her Court voice behind with the teas and his mother's reign, but it seemed he was wrong. He lifted his head to stare at her, and was surprised to see a wide smile spread across her face. He followed his eyes to where the third Cheshire tensed. "Why Jack, she looks positively useless, don't you think?"

The Cheshire suddenly rolled backwards off the wall, catching herself on her hands and toes with a haphazard grace. Her head lifted revealing narrowed green eyes that stared straight at Duchess. Then, before Jack could think to protect her, the Cheshire leapt slamming bodily into the taller woman with a shriek.

"Alicia!" To his shock, Duchess wrapped her arms around the Cheshire and spun in a circle, laughing in a way he'd never seen from her before. The Cheshire chattered away, clearly comfortable with his former fiance. "Alicia, my Duchess, you never come to see me anymore. I thoughts maybe you'd forgotten your little kitty cat in all the hullabaloo of the court and consternation. You didn't though, did you? You didn't and you're here. You're here, my Alicia Duchess. You are!"

"Yes, I am. And I'll try to come more often if I can, Kitty." Duchess set the smaller woman down and turned back to the men. "Jack, this is Cat."

He took a moment to look the woman over. She was tiny, but surprisingly looked to be only a year or two younger than Duchess. Her eyes, he'd already noticed, bright green and red rimmed as the eyes of any Cheshire would be. She had a short mop of ruddy curls that fell into her eyes, and as he watched she shook them out of her face with a toss of her head. That was when he realized he recognized her.

"Not this one. She was my mother's creature." As one, both Duchess and Cat narrowed their eyes, and Jack shut his mouth with a snap.

"Many of us were, Jack dear." The scorn was back in Duchess's voice, but this time Jack didn't doubt it was deserved. "If you'll remember, we were rarely given a choice in the matter." Jack gave Caterpillar a quick look, but his old mentor didn't seem to be in the mood to help him.

"Ah, yes. I-"

"Your Majesty." The Cheshire, Cat he reminded himself, swept into a deep curtsy that would have been painfully elegant if not for her bare feet and the barely hidden disdain on her face. The other Cheshires took one look at their comrade's face and then took a deliberate step behind her. "For what reason does the King of Hearts deign to visit us mere _creatures_?"

Jack wasn't sure he wanted to admit why he was really there: that he hoped to use one of them just as his mother had. For a better reason, surely, but he would be using them just the same. Judging from the look on Cat's face, she knew it too. Damned psychics. He took a breath, trying to decide how to word his response.

"I need the help of one of you to read the intentions of a guest of mine." Cat tilted her head, eyes staring at the air around him.

"Not right to start with a lie, young lord. He's family or so you hope. So you dream." He swallowed.

"You're right. I do hope he is family, but as yet I do not know." He folded his hands behind his back. "And, as you might know, my family is not always kind. I would like to know who I am dealing with before he wakes."

Cat shot a glance over at Duchess, and the tall blonde carefully nodded.

"It's important, Kitty. We, the court, we need all the help we can get. We can't chance any unknowns." Jack shot her a grateful look, but Duchess didn't notice. Cat turned her stare back to Jack.

"Will your pet Cheshire need to... to come with you?" Jack nodded solemnly, his eyes just past her to the other two who had started to tremble as soon as she mentioned leaving the Hospital. Cat was the one to swallow this time, trembling a bit herself. "Then it will have to be me, then won't it Doctor?"

"You have the most... experience with the outside world." His voice was almost gentle with the sharp-tongued Cheshire. Certainly it was far more gentle than Caterpillar had ever been with anyone else in Jack's memory. It didn't soothe her. She ducked her head, and this time her voice was quiet and almost broken.

"Will-will I have to go back to the Ca-casino?" Duchess sucked in a hard breath and then her arm was around the other woman.

"No, no Kitty. I thought you knew. The Casino is gone, Kitty. It fell the day the Queen lost power." She shot a look over Cat's head at the doctor. "Did you not tell them?" Cat shook her head against Duchess's shoulder.

"He probably did, Alicia, he probably did but if I was not my self, I'll not likely remember. It's harder without the dreaming to keep track of what is me and what is someone else." Jack felt pity welling in him as the Cheshire trembled. He tried to keep his voice as soft as Duchess's had been.

"Will you help us? I will do everything in my power to ease this for you. I swear it." Cat peaked out to pin him with her eyes again, and he tried not to fidget under the weight of them. After a moment, she pulled herself carefully out from under Duchess's arm, and then nodded.

"I will help you. I will."


	3. Of Scarab Rides and Slumbering

Duchess kept a hand on Cat's trembling shoulder as the Scarab lifted off from the Hospital. It hadn't taken as long to prepare her friend as she'd expected. She supposed her Kitty had known the Royal family would call for a Cheshire eventually. And as always, Cat would try to protect the others of her tribe by volunteering for her own personal hell. That selfless reaction had certainly been beaten into her long enough for it to become instinct. Duchess swallowed back the bitterness. Her troubled friend would read it on her easily, and that would only do more to unsettle her. Instead she focused on the easy joy of having her friend beside her, for once without any impending punishment or "lessons" at the hand of the Queen.

They were an unlikely pair of friends, Duchess knew. Jack's surprise would only be shared by the rest of the court. Or, perhaps not. Enough of the ladies had known just what entailed the painful honor of being one of the Queen's "favorites." They might not be surprised that _her_ two "dearest" ladies might have bonded over mutual abuse.

The palace came into view through the front window, and Duchess felt Cat begin to fidget under her hand. The Cheshire shuffled her now slipper clad-feet: slippers that Duchess knew were likely to disappear at any moment. She would have to keep a careful eye on them; in the drafty palace bare feet were not the wisest idea.

"It is silly shoes have to cover one's toes. They don't get to wiggle near as much and feel all bound and shackled." Duchess fought back a grin. Trust her Kitty to read that snippet of a daydream.

"Don't your toes get cold just as much as the rest of your feet?" Cat stopped shuffling for a moment to peer up at her friend through her long eyelashes.

"That's not relevant now is it? Cold and captivity are two entirely different crosses to bare, my dear. Or bear. One is fuzzy and one is heavy, and those are two entirely different…" she trailed off, and shot a glare over at Jack hovering in the corner where Duchess had almost managed to forget about him. "You'd best not be dropping no eaves, young majesty. This is a private conversation. Just me and her and my toeses and no one else's feet were invited." Cat huffed. "Rude."

Duchess managed, through sheer strength of will, to keep herself from laughing out loud at the affronted expression on Jack's face. A few muffled snorts from the pilots and Jack's advisor told her she was not the only one amused by their offended monarch. It was an odd moment: she wouldn't have expected to have anything in common with _any_ of the Queen's Clubs.

"Foolish of her: should know better than to think what they are and what they were are at all together similar." Cat's voice was quiet but the censure was still easy to catch. She sighed before Duchess could respond, and then shook herself all over, ending with a hard toss of her head that sent her curls flying about. She nodded sharply. "That's better. Couldn't- couldn't be all stiff when standing on stones again."

Duchess blinked as the meaning sunk in a bare moment before she realized the Scarab had actually landed. How had she not noticed their descent? She wasn't much more comfortable in the flying vessels than Cat was, and when it came to landings, Duchess was likely even _less_ comfortable. She glanced at her friend and caught a faint grin. The little minx had distracted her. Duchess smiled her thanks, and turned to lead her friend out of the Scarab and onto the palace lawn. Cat started trembling again as her feet touched the ground, and Duchess stroked her shoulder soothingly. At least this had never been one of the Queen's favorite residences; there were fewer bad memories. For either of them.

The sound of someone clearing their throat caught her attention, and Duchess glanced back at Jack almost guiltily. The look on his face was one she was surprised to realize she couldn't read. He didn't give her time to puzzle it out.

"Will she be ready to begin immediately, or-"

" _She_ is ready now, if she must be. Doesn't need to be spoken _about_ when she's right here beside herself, you know." Duchess sighed; her Cheshire's back was up and colliding firmly with Jack's pride. The next few days were liable to be unpleasant if neither one was willing to back down. To her shock, Jack did that very thing.

"My apologies, Cat. I did not mean to offend you." Even more shocking, he seemed honestly sincere. It was unexpected to say the least. "Are you certain you are ready? My guest was attacked during his arrival here. His dreams are likely to be unpleasant."

After a moment of staring through and around the King, Cat nodded slowly, her face carefully blank below her wide eyes.

"I once found many dreams unpleasant, Sire, so I am always prepared for such things. Ask the Alicia- she knows it's so." Duchess sighed at the sound of her real name. Cat tended to use it only when she was at her most emotional. Jack shot her a questioning look and she shrugged helplessly. Cat shrugged as well, and forced a wide toothy grin onto her face. "I am _useful_ again but hardly used all up and left in the midden. I can do this. I can I will I will not be useless." She bounced lightly on her toes.

"So." She glanced sharply at Duchess. "If if if if if I see the stranger may I release the prisoners? Carpet's not near so cool and drafty." She grinned hopefully, but Duchess only raised an eyebrow. Cat deflated with a sigh. "So, slippers on, then." Duchess nodded. "What about the gloves? I could take off the gloves and my fingers would find things to-"

"Not the gloves, Kitty. If you must lose the shoes, so be it. But you know you need the gloves if you're going to stay here a while." Duchess hoped she'd win the argument; she'd all too often seen what Cat could end up doing to herself without the gloves between her sharp little nails and skin. She'd end up clawing herself to pieces in the early stages of withdrawal, and it was not a sight Duchess wanted to ever see again. "Please Kitty. Wear the gloves for me?"

Cat held her hands out in front of her, and surveyed them. For a moment Duchess wished she might have a glimpse of what her friend was thinking, of what she felt about her small gloved hands. Then Cat dropped her hands and folded them carefully into fists, and the moment was gone.

"I'll wear them, Alicia Duchess. I will. I promise." Duchess smiled back at her, and then exchanged a slow look with Jack.

"I think we're ready to meet your guest, Jack. Shall we?"

He nodded stiffly, still un-at ease to Duchess's eyes, but he waved both women forward in his most gentlemanly manner. He led them down one winding hallway and up a flight of spiral stairs to yet another low passageway. Duchess felt some faint amusement at the rambling opulence: this palace was a near perfect depiction of the best of Wonderland's whimsical elegance. She felt another moment of gratitude that the Queen had rarely ventured into this particular palace. She would never have been able to appreciate the loveliness of this place otherwise.

At her side, her young Cheshire friend gamboled about, her earlier nervousness seemingly forgotten for the moment. She scampered back and forth from one side of the hall to another, gazing on this painting or that antique, then skipping back to dance beside Duchess with a wide grin only to cartwheel off again a moment later. Duchess watched indulgently; she could hardly begrudge Cat the fun of the moment. It would be over too quick, she feared.

Sure enough, Jack slowed to a halt in front of a door nearly hidden behind a pair of velvet curtains. Duchess wondered a bit at the secrecy, but a shake of Cat's head warned her away from the question. There was a reason, but apparently it wasn't one she needed to know. Jack removed a key from his pocket, and with one last anxious look over his shoulder at the quivering Cheshire, he opened the door and let them in.

Cat shoved past him with something akin to both glee and terror flickering across her face as she scampered to the edge of the large round bed. She leaned forward carefully, then began to tip toe her way around to the side of the bed closest to the bandaged form.

"Is it this one then?" Jack let out a huff at the question, and Duchess smiled softly. Only Cat would ask that question when there was no one else in the room. Heaven knew she'd find a way to give herself options if one didn't give them to her right from the start.

Cat went back to staring at the unconscious man as if she'd forgotten she'd even asked the question. Then, without so much as a blink of warning, she bounded up over the man and onto the bed on the other side. She twisted her body back around in a movement that made Duchess's back ache just to watch, and finally settled herself cross-legged beside the still form. She dropped her elbows onto her knees and plopped her chin into her hands. Then she went almost totally motionless; only her eyes flickered here and there back and forth, surveying the young man and the air around him. She began to speak softly, and Duchess took a few steps closer, straining to hear what she said.

"Stephen? Stephen… Stephen. _Ste_ phen. Ste _phen._ Stephen!" The sudden shout had both Duchess and Jack nearly jumping out of their skin. Once they'd regained their calm, the pair looked back over to the bed to find Cat watching them patiently. Having regained their attention, she grinned. "His name is Stephen. Stephen Hart." Jack let out a heavy sigh of relief.

"Finally, something's going righ-" He was interrupted, rather rudely Duchess had to admit, by the young Cheshire.

"Wrong! No, no, no. Not Heart. _Hart._ The e gotten lost in translation. He's a Stephen-deer instead of Stephen, dear. Makes you wonder what _he's_ hunting if he's been a hunted hart. Or heart? Definitely one of those two… three?"

Duchess had to bury the urge to laugh again. She wasn't sure which of them were more amusing: Cat, who likely didn't realize just how convoluted she sounded, or Jack, who likely didn't realize his mouth was still hanging open from when his jaw had dropped. She composed herself and took the last few steps to stand on this 'Stephen's' opposite side.

"So we know his name now, Kitty, but that doesn't tell us who his really is…" Duchess trailed off, hoping Cat would catch the hint sometime before Jack gave himself an aneurysm.

"Right! Right. He's not just the Stephen, he's the… he's…" She leaned closer and closer until she was nearly nose to nose with the sleeping figure. "He's… Eep!"

She shrieked suddenly and threw herself backwards, tumbling head over heels off the bed. She landed easily and crept back up to peer over the side.

"That's… that's not a 'wocky!" She eased back onto the mattress, hesitating every other second as if whatever she'd seen might jump out at her. "That's not friendly at all now is it?" She shivered, and patted Stephen on the forehead absently. "You's a lucky lickle not-an-Oyster aren't you? Nearly lost an ear. That would have been tragic. You'd be all unbalanced and-" She stopped and stared back at Duchess almost guiltily. "I'm all off topic again, isn't I? I fix it. I be better. He's just…" She cocked her head and peered at him. "He's awful distracting isn't he?"

Duchess kept a bland expression on her face and buried her reaction to that surprising statement as deeply in her psyche as she could. It was what the Doctor might call a breakthrough, and it was one that Cat must absolutely not read off of her friend. She could not realize she was having _any_ reaction to a male, or else she might run screaming away. That would certainly be awkward to explain to Jack, and as Duchess knew, they really did need some certainty about this cousin. Cat needed to remain as un-distracted as it was possible for her to be. Cat went on babbling quietly to herself, and Duchess allowed herself to relax a fraction. Apparently her friend had missed the slip due to study of Stephen. Jack shuffled his feet at her side, and Duchess realized he might not nearly as patient with Cat as she was.

"Kitty, we need to get back on task, dearest." Jack nodded sharply.

"Exactly. We need to know who he is, who he cares about. We need to know what he wants, what he needs. What… what might convince him to stay once he wakes." Cat swiveled her head around to stare at the King, and then she nodded.

"I understand, Sire. I do, and I look I look again." She settled her chin back on her hands, and was silent for another minute or two, and then inexplicably, she giggled. "Oh my my my my my. We need the Hatter man we do!"

"Excuse me?" Jack appeared perplexed to say the least, and Cat shook her head impatiently.

"Hatter. Hat-ter. Hatter! First name claims is David, previously of Wonderland, presently of Not. The Hatter need him here now please." Cat sat straight up and looked from Duchess to Jack expectantly. "Well?" Jack rubbed the bridge of his nose; his attempt at regal poise finally abandoned in the face of the Cheshire's present demand to fetch one of his least favorite people.

"You need the Hatter. Why, exactly?"

Cat giggled again, and Duchess had the sinking feeling that her friend had something up her sleeves besides the long edges of her gloves.

"Because it'll be fun!"

"Kitty…." At Duchess faint admonishment, Cat rolled her eyes and frowned.

"Because because because! He's… he's the only other Wonderlander who's ever been an Oystery ex-patriot for longer than a few months on their side, and and he had ex-per-i-ence with the long term effects of exile." She closed her eyes and mouthed the words back to herself, and then opened her eyes again with a grin. "Yes, that's it and that's all it shall be. And fun. Hatter's always fun and he has hats and he shares and it'll be lots of fun to watch the Stephen when- Hey! Pillow!"

It was Duchess's turn to gently rub her brow as her friend abandoned her serious expression to dive headlong into one of the multitude of pillows that the sleeping Hart was not using. She snuggled into it, and curled around to face her watchers.

"I can watch him if you need to go. And you need to go to get the Hatter, yes?" Her expression was both expectant and somehow beseeching, and Duchess wondered the look hit Jack as hard as it did her. Apparently so.

"Yes, I suppose we must fetch yon Hatter, then." He straightened his tie and sleeves, and then with a faint tilt of his head to Duchess, he took his leave. Duchess watched the closed door for a moment, then forcibly pulled her eyes away.

"Kitty, I need to arrange for a room for you. Will you be alright here?" She didn't particularly want to leave her friend alone with the stranger, but her task would take far less time if she handled it alone. And, it was painfully clear the Cheshire didn't particularly want to leave. "Kitty?"

"I shall stay I shall." She blinked and smiled up absently at Duchess. "Someone should stay. Me thinks he'll wake sooner than they thinks." Duchess reached across the slumbering form and ran a hand softly over her friend's tangled hair.

"Alright then. I'll be back soon."


	4. Of Dreaming and Bookends

Cat barely noticed her Alicia Duchess had left at all, so focused was she on the man dreaming in the bed beside her. He was a nice sort of fuzzy, she thought, though rather fluffy in spots. His hair in particular was completely out of bounds, she decided. She sneaked a look toward the door, checking for Duchess or sneaky snaky card sharks, and seeing the coast was clear or as clear as a pile of sand and rocks and salt could ever really be, she turned back to the Stephen-deer and carefully attempted to flatten the hair on his forehead with one gloved hand. Obstinately, the fluff fought her attempts to tame it, and her right hand, now definitely aware of what the left was up to, joined in until she was rather spastically petting his hair in a vain attempt to get it under some semblance of control. Hopefully the Stephen was not quite so vain as her hands appeared to be, as clearly his hair would never lie flat properly. Shame.

The Cheshire flopped back down on the pillow of snuggly she'd claimed as her own, and surveyed the man beside her again, more for lack of anything better to do than because she liked the look of him. No body could like the look of him that much, she was sure, to just stare and stare and stare again for hours like a loon. Not at just a _person_ , that would be dreadfully dull and not fun at all. Surely not fun at all.

Staring at a Stephen Hart-not-Heart's _dreams_ , well that was another issue entirely. Any Cheshire worth her salt-and-pepper could dally for a day or more if the dreams themselves were worth the look. And hadn't the prissy Kingly Knave of Hearts insisted they needed more information about who and what the Hart-dear was? Yes, yes he had. That was practically an order if not an excuse for a Cat to wander her curious away about. She nodded to herself, her head bobbing like a bobbin in the fishy lake. She certainly wouldn't be looking without permission, no not at alls.

If the Stephen seemed a bit perturbed by the notion when he woke, well he surely should have sooner waked then, shouldn't he? Yes, yes, he should.

Firmly decided for the moment's contemplative times, at least, Cat pushed herself back up to sit then crossed her legs and set elbows on knees and hand on chins in the proper Cheshire posing pose. Her left hand shifted shiftily until her fingers crept close enough to her mouth that she could nibble on the nails without much effort. The glove had just leaped off on its own, she realized in shock; Duchess would be all hot and crossed when she saw what there was to see. Stupid, disobedient glove. Just like the Hart's hair it was.

She released the captive fingertips from her lips and shook her head to clear her mind to clarity and then opened her eyes wider than widest and _looked_ into the once-a-Wonderlander's dreams.

They were strangely ordered for a Wonderlander, and she wondered whether that was due to his drifting in the deep and dark of Oysterland for quite so long. But how long? She asked as if the slumbering Stephen would answer her silent thoughts. He looked almost the King's age, but who could really tell when the days beyond the mirror were so steady and stable? Surely such a stasis state would stretch a Wonderland's sense of time, physically as well as mentally or emotionally or emotionlessly as might be the case this case. Either way, old and weary or young whipperlander, he had surely been there longer than anyone else since the Queen took power. Even with the back and forth of card kidnappers, none had every taken up residence as such. Such a thing would likely be dangerous for any Wonderlander. Any one at all.

The thought was enough to drive her to think more clearly than she had in quite some time. How this Stephen must have suffered over there. All alone. She reached out a hand again and stroked his forehead tremulously. Cat hadn't seen a dream of family, mother, father, sister, nuncle. No one while he was a child. Why had they gone and left him so?

The king hadn't said, hadn't cared to notice so she knew. Or if he had he'd kept it close, kept it buried in his heart-of-Hearts. She'd have to ask, she decided. It might be needful for her to know.

She gave him one last pat and then settled back into her pose. So, no family, for shame, for sure. What about a Clan he chose or chose him? If he had one, they'd be missing him for sure, a Stephen-deer like this one.

Cat peered past the layers of pain and guilt and shame for something long past littering over the heart of him. In between and below were tiny sparks of self-worth and loyalty and family and love and and and… _sacrifice._ The bitter tasting glimpse of it was enough to make her sit up straighter, she who was all too painfully aware of what a sacrifice was worth. Everything. Every _one_ a Hart chose to sacrifice for. He had someone waiting, he must, she says, he must.

Eyes unblinking, she forced herself to focus best she could, as fast she could while this clarity was still _clarity_ and not some distant sanity. She needed to know. Needed it.

After a moment or a decade, the figures around him began to clear, faces and smiles and names and places becoming real when before they were only dreaming. The first to appear was the Hatter-not Connor-so that she'd all but met before, the smiling youth with so much madcap genius in his silly little smiles that Cat thought she liked the sound of him already. He had a mate, or so she guessed by the longing lusting loving looks that sparked off hot between them. Like bookends they were in the library Cat had never gotten lost in or so she would absolutely swear if asked. What library? Exactly. She nodded sharply at the thought and tilted her head, eyeing the little blonde bit again. Feisty that one, she decided with her locks as sharp as her tongue and temper. She might be sweet beneath the bones, though, or so the lickle lizard seemed to think that as it swooped and soured about of wings of not-envy green. The not-a-Hatter seemed sure of it, too, hovering about as if she'd melt like sugar before him. Not likely though.

Never mind her hand reached in turn for his. Didn't matter yet. Too many volumes between them. Bookends, bookends. Have to remove the issues before they'd end up side by side properly. Pity. They'd wrap themselves around her Stephen if they could, she realized. Keep him close and part of them. Part of the little family they were building around themselves and the pretty little home they'd made all unknowingly.

Another male came into view, and as he did he seemed to stretch and bleed into everyone's dream she could get her eyes on. The bookends certainly seemed stuck to him somehow. Was he a shelving unit? Hee, unit. She giggled a bit then hunched down and looked about a bit embarrassed. Fairly certain her impropriety had gone un-witnessed or remarked by everyone who wasn't in the room, she glanced tentatively back to the man, gaze certainly no where near his unit. He was…. Cutter, she discovered. Gracious what company her Hart-dear was keeping: a Cutter and a Connor. That just seemed unsafe some how. Intriguing, perhaps, but decidedly unsafe.

There was something about this scruffy one that drew the eye, much like the Stephen-deery did. Charisma. She repeated the word to herself, tasting it on her tongue to catch its flavor. Mmmm that was part of it, she thought, part of the lure that drew people in within his reach. He was unaware of it, luckily for the rest of the Oysters on the little island. The depth of his focus seemed to impress his own importance upon others, too. Not that… she frowned and leaned closer to the dream floating in thick air. This one, the Cutter didn't think himself of any importance at all. How strange…

Stephen thought otherwise. Stephen had… She shuddered and flinched away from her second glimpse of the nightmare Stephen had chosen to enter on Cutter's behalf. Had chosen without regret or hesitation or any of the normal sane emotions a body felt when faced with death and dismemberment and a journey down the gullet of a bloody not-a-wocky. Stephen, Stephen, Stephen, why oh why did you make such a deadly choice?

A woman suddenly stepped confidently out of the mist and into the forefront of Stephen's unquiet dreams. He frowned a little in his sleep, and Cat reached out to soothe him with her little hands against his cheeks, her eyes still fixed on the bitch before her. Something about the woman set her hackles ranging, and she suddenly fought the urge to claw her eyes out. Helen Cutter. Helen. Cutter. Every voice in Stephen's head seemed to scream it out in rage, in contempt, in in in despair, in fear, in desperation! Cat brought both hands up to her ears, trying desperately to block out the sound from her mind. Worse still were the whispers of her name, those somehow thick with desire and regret and a lingering wish for affection.

Comprehension flared in Cat's eyes and she shook her head furious at the lot of them.

What the bloody hell had Stephen been thinking taking up with a harpy like this one? Even more, what the hell had the Cutter been thinking to actually _marry_ the witch? Every one of Cat's catastrophic instincts warned her far, far away from the influence of this one. Helen Cutter was just bad, bad, bad and vicious and every bit as selfish and self serving as the Queen of Hearts had been.

She was destroying them, Cat mourned, tears slipping from her open eyes without her knowing. The woman would rip every shred of the good and gracious parts of these two men and the Clan they worked so hard to become. All their hopes and dreams and quiet wishes would vanish if Helen Cutter had her way.

She wouldn't have her way, Cat decided, steel weaving its way inside to straighten her spine and solidify her resolve. She have to convince the Stephen-deer that the woman was now the enemy, no matter what had once passed between them. In Cat's opinion, the Helen had likely been an enemy of anyone but herself even before their past took place however many years ago.

Once the Stephen believed, the Cutter wouldn't be too far behind, if he wasn't convinced already. He might just be, Cat decided with another glance over to the freckly form of him. Clan was sacred, was more than family. Anyone who played Clan against each other was not to be trusted, no they bloody well were not.

Hopefully the Cutter had learned that by now. Hopefully they all would soon enough.

Cat finally allowed herself to sink down to rest her head back against her snuggly, her eyes finally drifting closed grateful their task was complete for now.

Her eyes shot open after only a moment though, realizing something before Cat even had. They would have to give the Stephen-deer back to those he came from. Oh the Jack King was not going to be pleased by this. No, no he likely wasn't. Not after all the effort and rabbity work it had taken to find the Hart-dear in the first place.

She nibbled her thumbnail. Maybe maybe maybe someone _else_ could tell him so. Yes, that would be a proper plan. Leave the crazy Cheshire to do it and he'd likely be cross as cross. But maybe Duchess with her shiny and her slinky and her absolutely diamond will. Cat giggled at the thought; the King of Hearts wouldn't know what hit him if Alicia Duchess decided to stand against him. She wasn't all soft around the edge if she didn't really want to be.

Cat knew that better than anyone she did indeed. She shifted to her side, bringing the slumbering Hart back into proper view.

Only he wasn't all sleepy byes now was he? Bright blue eyes with confusion etched across them were drifting open to find her staring face. He blinked, and she grinned and sat up straight.

"You're awakened dear Stephen. That's lovely!" Cat grinned even wider as he blinked again. "Welcome to Wonderland my deer."


	5. Of Waking and Disbelief

Stephen blinked warily, but the blinding grin hovering over him didn't disappear. What the hell had happened and who the bloody hell was the tiny thing with the massive eyes? She was making him more than a little uncomfortable what with the staring and the smiling like a lunatic. She wasn't the only thing making him uncomfortable, he realized; the more conscious he seemed to be, the more every inch of him seemed to hurt - the pain culminating with what felt like a knife in his right shoulder. The knife twisted with a flare of pain, as if acknowledging it had suddenly made the wound that much worse.

"She knows it hurts but Alicia Duchess and the doctor, neither Dee nor Dum don't worry, will return soon as soon with something to ease that nasty not-a-wocky bite. They will," the stranger said, in what he guessed was supposed to be a reassuring tone. Oddly enough, it might have been, assuming he knew who the Duchess was, or the doctor for that matter. The names "Dee" and "Dum" tugged at his memory, but between the pain and confusion he couldn't grasp the recognition before it slipped away again.

"Where…" he coughed, the attempt to speak failing pretty miserably. The young woman seemed to know what he meant to say though, and she answered. Or, likely _thought_ she answered, but in reality her words were just nonsense.

"You're in Wonderland, my Hart-dear. In a room all private-like in the Heart-King's castle." She nodded, as if anything of that meant anything to him. "Oh! I forgot to introduce myself. It's just rude, isn't it? Sorry, sorry. Cat Cheshire, I am. Pleased to meet you, Stephen, Stephen Hart."

Wonderland? Speaking of nonsense… He sighed and let his eyes close in annoyance, wondering again just where he actually was, and why he'd been left in the care of a mental ward patient. One who apparently thought herself to be a character in Lewis Carroll's book. At least she seemed to be one of those sweet and almost endearing crazy folk instead of a violent lunatic. Still, violent or not, he wasn't likely to get a straight answer out of the self-proclaimed Cheshire Cat.

He opened his eyes and looked up to find the young woman looking at him with something like shame. What could have possibly set that off in her eyes, he wondered? She nibbled her lips and seemed to be struggling for words.

"I… I knows I'm not always easy to understand. I knows it." She wrapped her arms around herself and seemed to start off into the space just above him. "But I'm not lying, Stephen-deer. You are in Wonderland. Fell through a rabbit hole before the not-a-wocky could fell you like a tree."

She shifted her gaze back down to him, her eyes as wide as ever, but this time her gaze seemed to implore him for belief. She absolutely believed what she was telling him, he realized, and also seemed to know without a doubt that she was crazy, and yet _still_ thought she was telling him the truth. Damned if he knew what to make of her.

"Can I… water? Please?" He gave up his attempt to question her for at least a moment. His voice was just too ragged to try. At his request, the woman, _Cat_ he reminded himself wryly, sat up straighter and glanced around the room looking for water or so he guessed. She seemed to find something because she suddenly leapt off the bed and out of his line of sight. She returned with a pitcher and a glass held carefully between her hands as if she were a child afraid to drop what she carried. She set them on a table he hadn't noticed by the bed and then turned back to look at him, her teeth worrying at her lip again.

"I don't think you can drink it like that, my deer. Me thinks you need to sit up some, can you sit?" She didn't wait for him to answer, which was probably for the best as now that he thought about it, he wasn't actually sure he had enough strength to move on his own. "It's alright. We has pillows. Lots and lots and lots of pillows. They'll help you. Yes they will."

She leaned over and around him, and then with a strength he never could have expected from such a diminutive frame and a gentle care he wouldn't have expected from someone as easily distracted as he'd expect her to be, she managed to maneuver him up from laying flat to sitting almost all the way up, his torso propped up on God only knew how many pillows. Much to his surprise and grateful admiration, Cat managed it all without ever jarring his injured shoulder. Crazy she might be, but clearly she had some competence buried under the manic.

She poured a little water from the pitcher into the glass, brow furrowed as she did so, as if trying with all her might to keep from making a mess. She set the pitcher back down, and lifted the cup with both hands before bringing it to him. He managed to reach out to help her bring the cup to his lips with his left hand and took a few tentative sips of the water. He scowled a little when he pulled the cup away and saw just how badly his hand shook. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this weak and helpless…

"Yes you can, silly deer. After the ugly bug with too many legs." It was a lucky thing Cat was helping him hold the cup, because at her words, he nearly dropped the bloody thing. How the hell had she known about the Arthropleura? The deaths of the subway workers had been buried in the news or so Lester had assured them. And the fact that he'd been injured down there too had never even made it to the papers. That was the whole point in "secret government facility."

"Who told you about that?" He struggled to keep the fear and anger out of his voice as he demanded her answer. Stephen didn't want to scare the unstable young woman, but he had to know. Was there another leak in the ARC's operation? Where the hell was he? Had Helen dragged him here? Panic and helplessness began to rise in him, and frantically he tried to push himself up higher, groaning as the movements sent pain roaring through his shoulder. Gentle hands held him steady and carefully pushed him back down onto his tower of pillows. He opened eyes he hadn't realized he shut in pain and saw Cat staring down at him again, this time with something like regret.

"I can tell you hows I knows but you won't believe it yet. Is not what you worries, though. The Helen Cutter harpy isn't here and if she was, I wouldn't let her near you. Not now, not ever." She patted his hair softly, the gesture contrasting sharply with the sheer venom that had entered her voice when she spoke of Helen. Not one of his old flame's minions then, he decided with both relief and a little disappointment. He hadn't really believed Helen would have been the one to rescue him, but a small part of him still wished she'd cared enough to do so. Cat dropped her hand away as his thoughts turned to Helen and shook her head. "Don't be a foolish lickle fawn. You knew it wasn't her. Don't be thinking such thoughts now; only make the hurting worse as worse later on."

"I…" he trailed off and looked away, unable to stand the knowing in her wide green eyes. "Just tell me where I am. Please."

She shook her head and then shook all over as if something long-legged and disgusting had just crawled up her spine. She poured another little bit of water into the glass and helped him to sip again, keeping silent all the while. He let her. Stephen wasn't sure what the hell the woman was, but unless he was more drugged than he actually felt and was rambling all of his thoughts out loud… there was just no way she should know what she did. She just wasn't like anything he understood. He thanked her quietly after he finished drinking, and she smiled that bright grin again, as if he'd buried her in compliments instead of offering basic courtesy.

"You are in Wonderland, you are," she suddenly said into the silence, and for a moment, he forgot he'd actually asked her the question. She'd just given him the same answer though, and for a moment, frustration crept forward again. Cat kept talking though, and didn't give him the space to argue. "You'll know when you knows, and for now we both knows you can't rightly understand me and don't believe I'm sane enough to know my answers and that's plenty rude but I understand the way the worldly world looks right now to you. What with waking to a room and bed and Cat who isn't your's. But once you're up and about and have a different perspective on the room and the 'Land, things'll make a bit more sense me thinks." She patted his hand, and nodded briskly. "That or Duchess will explain. She does that best of all, better than me by halves and thirds at least she does."

Stephen let out a pained chuckle at the no-nonsense tone in which she'd said such an utterly nonsensical statement. Then he laughed outright as he realized the nonsense had actually had a strange sort of clarity to it. He shook his head, wincing as the movement pulled sharply against the wound in his shoulder.

"Well, I might not think you're all that san e, Miss Cheshire, but you make a strange sort of sense. That or we're just _both_ mad as a Hatter."

To his surprise, she didn't look insulted or even amused by the comment, instead she just looked a little confused.

"But Hatter isn't mad at all. He's awfully sneaky sometimes and his logic's a bit faulty for a Wonderlander but his Just-Alice thinks he's pretty and smart and her's." She shook her head again, her expression earnest. "Hatter's nice, he is. Not crazy, no he's not. No more than the rest of us he is."

Stephen stared a little aghast. A Hatter and an Alice, along with the aforementioned Cheshire Cat and King of Hearts. Did they all really believe they were characters in the book? God help him, this was even more over his head than he'd thought. Now what the hell was he in for?

The young woman seemed to prepare herself to speak again, but before she could, there was a faint knock at the door, and it opened to reveal one of the most singularly stunning women he'd seen in a very long time.

"Kitty are you-oh he's awake!" The blonde vision entered and flashed a smile that was almost as blinding as Cat's had been, if a great deal more sane. She came over to set a hand on Cat's shoulder and the shorter woman beamed up at her.

"See Alicia Duchess, I said he'd been waking and he did and he's awake now. He knows his name is Stephen, but he doesn't believe in Wonderland. I told him you'd explain it better. You will, yes?"

"Of course, though.. perhaps it would be best to wait for Jack and Hatter?"

"So there actually is a Hatter?" Stephen couldn't resist asking, wondering if she was as mad as Cat apparently was. The decidedly cool look and the almost protective way the taller woman wrapped her arm carefully around Cat's shoulders kept him from teasing any further.

"Yes, indeed there is. You may call me Duchess, Mr. Heart. And just to make things clear: you are, in fact, in Wonderland." Duchess straightened to her full height at the words, poised and regal and clearly convinced of her superior knowledge compared to that of the ignorant commoner.

That attitude instantly put his back up. Stephen wanted to argue, wanted to tell the woman she was lying through her teeth, or just as crazy as the next Cat.

Duchess just stared back at him over Cat's head, every inch of her daring him to do just that.


	6. Of Relations and Withdrawal

When Jack finally returned to his cousin's room, he didn't bother knocking. After all, that might have woken the bandaged patient, and he didn't particularly want to deal with a scolding from the diminutive Cheshire for doing such a thing. Nor did he particularly want to deal with Hatter's voice inside his head, likely mocking him for having to knock in his own castle or some other biting nonsense.

He sighed and scowled, just a little aggravated that Hatter already had his equilibrium off, and the former tea-seller hadn't even arrived in Wonderland yet. Jack and Alice's current love had formed an uneasy truce in the time between Alice's departure and Hatter's rather desperate choice to follow her through the Looking Glass. Jack couldn't deny that the other man loved Wonderland's lovely heroine with all of his crooked heart. Indeed, he'd certainly loved her more than Jack had. Nor could Jack deny that Hatter's affection had given the man a sort of strength, one he knew all too well had been a major factor in the downfall of the Casino and Jack's rise to the throne. The newly crowned King of Hearts knew he owed the other man a debt of gratitude. But that didn't mean he had to like it.

And it certainly didn't mean he was excited about the prospect of seeing Hatter again, especially with Alice by his side as Jack knew the strong willed young woman would likely be. He'd need every ounce of his own pride wrapped around himself to deal with that emotional upheaval.

So, no. The King of Hearts would not knock. Instead, Jack just pulled aside the tapestry, turned the doorknob, and walked right in. Right into the middle of what appeared to be a bit of a standoff. He paused at the sight of Duchess looking her most regal and staring down his cousin who, to Jack's surprise, was already awake. Stephen appeared to be rather less than comfortable with his surroundings and the pair of women standing by his bed.

Eyes on the tableau before him, Jack eased into the room carefully, somehow unwilling to startle any of the three. Neither of the women responded to his entrance, but he had the feeling both were completely aware of just who had stormed in without even a by your leave. Hopefully, his presence wouldn't aggravate them as much as Stephen's had apparently aggravated Duchess.

Jack wondered for a moment just what the injured man had said to set her defenses up so suddenly. It had to be a fairly impressive insult. That or, more likely, Stephen had insulted the other young woman in the room. Jack had already glimpsed Duchess's fierce protectiveness toward the Cheshire; it wasn't a stretch to think she'd be insulted on Cat's behalf even if the younger woman wasn't.

The silence dragged out for at least a minute or two with neither woman seeming willing to break the stand off with the man in the bed, and Jack finally coughed softly and stepped forward to the opposite side of the bed.

Stephen looked startled at Jack's appearance, as if he truly hadn't noticed anyone had entered the room. He was visibly startled for only a moment, though. Then he immediately schooled his expression back into a calm mask, as if even that reaction had been too much to share. Jack could certainly relate to that desire for control; he wondered if he should warn his cousin that it was likely a wasted effort with these two women. Between Cat's gifts and Duchess's court-trained abilities, both were more than capable of reading a man no matter how well he thought to hide himself from them.

Jack shook off the slight intimidation at that thought, and stepped forward to hold out a hand to the wounded man.

"Hello Stephen. My name is Jack Heart, and I believe you are a cousin of mine." Stephen didn't shake the offered hand, and Jack dropped it down again after a muttered 'wrong hand silly' from the Cheshire reminded him that Stephen wouldn't be doing much with his right arm for at least a while yet.

"Heart? Like the King of Hearts Cat was going on about?" Stephen's voice was carefully casual, as if commenting on the weather or the state of the former Queen's flamingos, but Jack could detect just an edge of challenge in the other man's words.

"Yes actually. Strange though it may seem for you, I am the current King of Wonderland." Jack straightened his back as Stephen tried to bury the look of absolute disbelief on his face. This time, judging from the decidedly chilly look Duchess shot him, Stephen was far less successful at hiding his expression. Jack tried to ignore the by-play between the two, and instead continued on with his explanation, a decision that Cat grinned at, showing her sudden approval. "I know this will be difficult to believe, but roughly 150 years ago, a young girl slipped from the other world into ours by way of a Rabbit Hole. That girl, the Alice of Legend, eventually returned to the Oysters' world and told her story to a gentleman who took it in his head to publish the book you have likely heard of. Luckily he turned most of her tale into complete nonsense, leaving the Oysters unaware of our existence outside of that children's story. It was safer that way, for us and for them."

Jack paused for a moment as the courtier in him realized neither woman had seated themselves, and he wondered if the fact that three people all but hovered over him was adding to Stephen's unease. Either way, manners drove him to pull a pair of chairs from the corner of the room to Stephen's bedside. There were only the two, but he figured he could stand. Or he could sit, he amended wryly as the Cheshire took Duchess's move to one of the chairs as a signal to climb back up to her previous spot on the empty side of Stephen's bed. The wounded man shot Cat a veiled look, but she just smiled wildly at the room in general and settled down with a pillow clutched to her chest, eyes wide and waiting for Jack to continue his story. Jack un-buttoned his suit coat and settled himself into the chair beside Duchess, then leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees and spoke again.

"In the wake of that Alice's visit, our world went into significant upheaval. One queen had been overthrown, and a new queen, my mother, took power. She was not a benevolent queen. Thanks to the then-Alice's arrival, she now knew there was a whole other world to exploit, and she did so. She created the Hearts Casino, hooked most of Wonderland's populace on emotion-laced teas, and used her card agents and the White Rabbit organization to force compliance with anyone who refused her new regime."

Jack stalled again, wondering if anything he was saying made even the slightest bit of sense to his cousin. _He_ certainly wasn't given Jack any clues either way. He risked a quick glance toward the Cheshire curled beside his cousin, and she winked at him. Strangely heartened by the cheeky little thing, Jack went on.

"Our world was in a rather horrid state until recently when a new Alice arrived, and with the help of the Resistance fighters, my mother was stripped of power. I have since taken her place as ruler, hopefully one more benevolent than she, of course. The Looking Glass is still active and in the care of our best scientists here in Wonderland, and in the care of the aforementioned Alice and her companion Hatter in the Oysters' world." He shrugged as Stephen maintained his un-impressed expression. "It's still better that most of the other world's residents don't know we even exist save for those unfortunate souls who my mother had abducted. They too are at least nominally in Alice Hamilton's care."

Jack finally drew silent, his throat slightly dry after his long soliloquy. Cat roused from her dreamy pose, and slid off the bed to fetch a glass and fill it from the pitcher beside Stephen's bed. She offered it to Jack with a curtsey, the gesture surprising Jack. He hadn't thought the Cheshire could stand him in the slightest, and he certainly wouldn't have thought she'd offer him such a courtesy freely. He took the glass with a smile of thanks. She scampered over to pour water into another glass by the pitcher, and while Duchess and Jack watched, she helped the injured man drink it down. Once he had, Stephen turned his attention back to Jack, the focus in his blue eyes almost pinning Jack to his chair.

"Thanks for the history lesson and all that, but where exactly do I fit in to your little story?"

Jack swallowed tightly and fiddled with the glass in his hand. This was the part of his tale that he was utterly ashamed of, and hoped to high heaven, he wouldn't end up with yet another enemy blaming him for his mother's actions.

"You are, or so my research has led me to believe, my first cousin, Stephen Heart. Spelled 'h-e-a-r-t,' of course," Jack clarified with an amused glance at the Cheshire now sitting on the floor beside Stephen's bed. "Your father, Michael Heart, was younger brother to my father, Winston Heart, the then King of Wonderland. And until I was born, both your father, and in turn you, were my father's heirs."

Jack took another long sip, using that as an opportunity to avoid his cousin's watchful gaze. The man seemed to have an uncanny knack for looking right through a person. It was worse now: Cat had snuck back up to the bed and helped to maneuver him to a fully upright position. Even as battered and bandaged as Stephen was, he still managed to look far stronger than a man who'd been that close to death only a day or two prior had any right to be.

"So then what?" Stephen asked, his voice less dismissive than it had been only moments before, but something told Jack the other man knew there'd be nothing like a happy ending to this story.

"Your father was attractive, charismatic, and genuinely fond of the people. There were rumors that a good portion of the public half-hoped my father never sired a son at all, just so the line could pass to my uncle instead. Then the rumors suddenly died, and your father and his pretty young wife and three year old son vanished." Jack shrugged and then immediately regretted it. He sat up straight again, and winced at what he was about to reveal. "My mother never left things to chance. Most people assumed your family was assassinated, but some held out hope for mere exile beyond the Looking Glass." He took another sip of water and finished, hoping he'd be done with the hard questions at least for the moment. "As it happens, when I took power and began looking for the lost Hearts, the Resistance found evidence of your existence in that world, so apparently some of the rumors were true."

"And now here I am."

"Here you are."

"Bloody hell."

"Quite.

The pair of men fell silent, and Jack wasn't really sure what else to say. Stephen seemed more willing to believe him now, though Jack wasn't quite sure how long that would last. Duchess finally broke the silence, and Jack was relieved to hear her voice had softened towards his cousin.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Hart?" Her voice held the slightest edge of a pointed curiosity, but damned if Jack knew why. Surely she'd tell him eventually. "Is any of your strength returning?"

Stephen sat himself up straighter on his mountain of pillows and grimaced, his brow furrowing in thought.

"Better, I think." He frowned down at his right arm, and lifted it slowly, his brow furrowing even deeper as he did. "Much better actually. Why?" He narrowed his eyes a little in suspicion. Jack couldn't blame the man; not when he and Duchess had so clearly gotten off on the wrong foot. Such a show of concern would seem a bit out of character for the woman Stephen likely thought her to be. Duchess's expression was knowing and somehow satisfied. She tossed Jack a superior smile and an arched eyebrow as if he should know as much as she did, but to his chagrin, he was every bit as in the dark as Stephen.

"Shows he's a Wonderlander, that's why." Cat re-asserted her presence in the room with a soft smile, and words that were somewhat saner than Jack expected. "Wonderlanders live longer, stronger. Heal faster too. You should know that already, Stephen deer." Stephen gave the Cheshire a questioning look, and she went on, giving the clear impression that she was ignoring the others in the room in favor of the wounded man beside her. "Lived through too many things to count. At the very least, the leggy bug should have killed you, and me thinks you knew that. Survival depended on how quickly the venom spread in the blood stream and the nasty bite was awful close to the heart, now wasn't it?" She reached out and tapped what looked to be an old faded scar on his cousin's shoulder. "Can hardly even see this now. Faded awful quick me thinks, like a memory one hallucinates."

She sat back abruptly, and gave Stephen a glare so angry that had Jack half standing in defense before he realized it. It was only Duchess's hand on his arm that kept him from shouting at the Cheshire; that and the way Stephen only looked ashamed as opposed to cowed.

"You do remember it, you fool of a Hart. She left you there to die and you still…" She trailed off to stare into the air around Jack's cousin, and if anything her glare deepened with as much disgust as anger now. "You went with the bitch, knowing she was such. You still went! Great stupid bloody deer! Do you learn nothing on the other side? Nothing at all!" She threw up her hands and rolled of the bed as if unable to stand to be near the man. "Men. Useless. Bloody hopeless, the lot of them!"

She began to mutter under her breath viciously as she paced back and forth, seemingly unaware that anyone else was still in the room at all. One hand reached up to pull violently at her hair, nearly ripping it out at the roots, while the other began to claw at her arm, her nails beginning to dig bloody furrows.

Beside him, Duchess let out a pained cry of the Cheshire's name and then stood and approached Cat carefully as one would approach a rabid animal. Jack and Stephen stared at each other, both confused as to what was happening, and what could have sent the relatively happy go lucky (at least so far as Jack had seen of her) Cheshire into a such a tailspin so quickly.

"Kitty, Kitty look at me, please?" Duchess almost begged, and Jack stood at the sheer misery in her voice. "Come on, Kitty, come here, please."

Cat finally seemed to notice Duchess was even there about the time tremors began wracking her body.

"Alicia… I.. I'm sorry, I left it too long. I know I did and I knew better but I didn't want to interrupt-I'm sorry!" She took a few hesitant steps toward Duchess and then nearly collapsed against her. Duchess carefully pulled the Cheshire's hands away from her hair and arm, and then wrapped her in a tight hug. "I'm sorry," Cat said again, and Jack was again struck by the painful sanity in her voice. Was Caterpillar's concoction wearing off already? He buried the pity, but Cat seemed to sense it, anyway. She lifted her head to look at him with far more shame in her eyes than Stephen had been showing. "I could feel it coming, but there wasn't time to tell you. Not really."

"Where are your gloves?" Duchess asked softly, and Stephen surprised them all by answering.

"Here," he said, lifting them from the bedclothes beside him. "They're here."

He sat up even further and leaned out to hand them to Jack, his right arm supporting him fairly well in the process. Jack eyed him impressed by the rate at which he was healing, but didn't say anything about it. He took the gloves and passed them to Duchess who slipped them onto Cat's hands with the same gentle care that she'd used to capture her hands in the first place. Then she pulled a tiny vial from her trouser pockets and tossed it to Jack.

"Jack, put that in a glass of water, please?" He did as she asked, and then handed it back to her. Duchess helped the younger woman to drink, in a scene that was painfully reminiscent of Cat aiding Stephen only moments before.

"You're drugging her." Stephen's voice was harsh, probably harsher than he'd intended or so Jack gauged by the way his cousin dropped his gaze after the words. He looked up again quickly though, his protective nature apparently stronger than his momentary regret. "Why? What are you giving her?"

"It's alright, Stephen deer. I need it," Cat answered, peeking out at him from Duchess's arms. "It's too long to explain, but I truly do. Alicia Duchess would never harm me. Honest."

Stephen furrowed his brow again, but then nodded, apparently somewhat mollified.

"I believe you," he said quietly, and Cat visibly relaxed at his words. Then he turned his eyes back to Jack for a long measuring look. "I believe you, too."

Jack sighed heavily, and then wondered a little at his own relief.


	7. Of Clothing And Hatter

In the wake of Stephen's statement, Duchess cradled her friend a little closer, wondering if it was only she who felt such sheer relief at the man's quiet words. It was strange how in so little time she'd gone from nearly loathing the man to being pitifully grateful to him. It wasn't often someone looked and actually _saw_ her Kitty well enough to trust her, well enough to believe in her and the things she said. It was a gift her friend deserved, and should have had along with the healthy dose of respect worthy of a powerful mystic. As gifted as she was, Cat would have had it easily, had the Queen not destroyed the Cheshire heritage so completely.

The fact that Stephen had been prepared to stand up to Duchess and Jack just on the slightest chance that they might be harming Cat hadn't hurt Duchess's opinion of him, either, she admitted to herself. Her Kitty could always use another friend and protector, and while Duchess didn't know if Stephen would be staying in Wonderland, at least he could offer a little care to Kitty for the time being.

And if having an attractive man around who truly meant no harm didn't go miles toward healing some of the internal scars the Queen and court had left behind on Kitty, then likely nothing would.

In her arms, Kitty's tremors slowly eased and then shifted into the random fidgeting of a normal Cheshire. She nuzzled her face into Duchess's shoulder and then smiled at her widely, her green eyes no longer holding the pain and despair of a few moments prior.

"Feeling better, are you?" Duchess asked teasingly and ruffled her friend's ruddy curls. Cat nodded wildly, her head bobbing about almost too fast to follow.

"I am and look he is and we are and everyone is better and better and best of all, Hatter is coming!"

From his stance by the bed, Jack let out a choked laugh and then shook his head.

"Yes, Hatter is coming and should be here soon. Thrilling, really." His less than thrilled expression had his cousin letting out a chuckle.

"So, what now?" Stephen asked fidgeting a bit himself, and Duchess guessed the man might not be as patient as his cousin. She glanced over at the aforementioned King of Hearts and was amused and exasperated to see him draw that royal attitude back around him like a shield. It would be nice if he could occasionally let that go; shame it wasn't likely to happen anytime soon.

"Now, it seems we are merely waiting on Hatter to arrive. He should have some information on your mental and physical wellbeing considering how long you've lived beyond the Looking Glass." He tugged at his tie absently, and shrugged. "We have little experience for this sort of thing. It is best to be sure there's been no lasting harm to you."

"If I'm being forced to entertain your guest, cousin, do you think I might have something more in the way of clothing?" Stephen asked wryly, and Duchess blinked as she realized the injured man likely wasn't wearing a great deal other than bandages. And she'd left Kitty alone in the room with him? She was more than a little surprised the Cheshire hadn't run screaming at the mere thought.

"No no no, you silly 'Licia. He's wearing pants. Obviously." Duchess raised an eyebrow at her friend, and this time decided she really didn't want to know how Kitty knew Stephen had pants on underneath the blankets he had yet to remove. Knowing Kitty, the answer would likely be even more unique than usual. The wicked grin the Cheshire shot her from behind her hands made that even more of a certainty. Stephen watched the women from his spot on the bed, his eyes just slightly wary, and Duchess wondered if he'd caught Kitty's mischievous look, as well. It wouldn't do him much good even if he hand. Cat was nothing if not unpredictable.

Duchess shook her head slightly, forcing herself back to the issue at hand. If they were, in fact, going to present yon Hart to Hatter, he probably would need something more like clothing. And in no way would it be proper for she and Cat to remain while the cousins accomplished that little feat.

"Gentleman, I believe we will withdraw for the moment while Stephen is made a bit more presentable." She took Cat by the hand and, with a pair of curtseys to Jack, they swept out of the room. Once outside the tapestry and hidden door, Duchess lowered herself gracefully onto a settee against the wall across from a rather lovely painting of the Kingdom of the Knights. She made a mental reminder to show it to the White Knight, Sir Charles, the next time he visited the palace. It might be relatively soon, she mused. Whether Stephen chose to stay in Wonderland or not, there would still likely be a fete in honor of the surviving Heart cousin. It seemed more and more likely he was, in fact, who Jack thought him to be. He'd had an air of haunted memory about him when Jack had spoken of the exile and possible murder of Prince Heart and his family, as if the story had filled some holes in his own past.

Perhaps that was merely Duchess projecting, though, for Jack if not for herself. He wanted to desperately to be part of saving someone's life instead of merely belonging to the family that destroyed lives.

"He's already saved the one he has even if he leaves again, you know. He doesn't know but he should me thinks." Duchess glanced over and laughed out loud to see Cat walking about on her hands up and down the hall. It was a mercy her blouse was staying tucked in, else the Suits who bustled about would have had far more of a show than was quite proper. Trust a Cheshire not to care particularly. "You remind him if he forgets, Alicia Duchess. Tell him he's a good man and he might realizes it's mostly true. Or truer than false it is and isn't it?"

She cocked her head up at Duchess as her voiced lifted up in question, then Duchess almost jumped as Cat's body followed the curve of her neck, rolling off her hands and the somersaulting for another few feet to fetch up against a pillar by the settee. She was still mostly upside down, but at least her head and arms were relatively upright. Duchess didn't would get quite as dizzy this way. Perhaps it was her upright position that cleared Duchess's mind enough to follow what Kitty's been saying.

"You think I should tell him? You think he would even listen?" her voice sounding more brittle and far more bitter than she liked. Cat narrowed her eyes at her, and Duchess found herself looking away. As much as she dearly loved her little friend, it was occasionally a little uncomfortable being a close companion to a Cheshire. Cat clearly knew it too, her grin fading a bit as she slithered forward away from the pillar to lay her head in Duchess's lap. Duchess reached down to stroke her hair absently as Cat spoke again, her words slow as if she was carefully reaching for as much clarity as possible.

"Jack is… He is King, and Wonderland dreams for him, my Alicia Duchess. He doesn't dream as well me thinks, because of that dreaming for him I means. He can't see, can't feel what's really down there in his heart of Hearts." She shrugged against Duchess's legs. "It was safer before when his mother the Bitch Queen ruled us all. If she knew her son had _feelings_ she could use and use up for her own ends? There wouldn't be a knave left to grow into a king after long. He'd have all but stolen every tart in the casino and and and run off to make a harem in the lake with all the prettiest fishes in the sea he would were he like her."

She tilted her head upward to seek Duchess's gaze.

"But he's not like her. Not really. Just lost and dreamless for now." She stood suddenly, and Duchess's hand fell into her lap as she stared upward, caught in the Cheshire's wide green eyes. "But _Wonderland_ still dreams, she does." She brushed hair out of Duchess's face, and Duchess felt herself tremble as Cat's eyes almost seemed to glow. "Wonderland dreams of a Queen of Hearts with a Diamond will. One who loves her people more than she ought, and loves her King with all she has left."

Her words hung in the air as if placed there by Cat's voice. After a moment, she suddenly grinned impishly, and the spell of the Cheshire left her eyes. Duchess took in a deep gasp of a breath, surprised to find she'd been holding her breath. Cat beamed all the harder, swinging her arms about happily.

"That's the dream we want, my Duchess. That very one. Jack should want it too he should but bless him, he's male and you know they are hardly expected to think very clearly at the best of times now are they?"

"You know, I'm trying not to take offense to that but it's not exactly easy." A cheeky voice sounded down the hall, and Duchess turned to look as Cat spun around to face the newcomer. Newcomers, plural, Duchess realized as she took in Hatter's grinning face and the shy smile of Alice Hamilton standing close to his side. Cat flew down the hall, her exuberance increasing now that there was yet another target for her delight.

"It's a Hatter!" she squealed and leaped. Luckily Hatter seemed almost as used to Cat's energetic hellos as Duchess herself was.

"It's a Cat!" He caught her under her arms and spun in a circle, causing Alice to jump to the side to avoid the Cheshire's flailing legs as they spun about, both of them laughing like fools. He set her down finally, and Cat turned to offer a smile and an elegant curtsey to Alice.

"Hello! The Hatter brought you he did I'm glad and glad to meet you, Just Alice, his dear." Cat chattered on at the clearly bemused Oyster woman, and Duchess had to hide a smile behind her hand.

Hatter wandered over to stand beside Duchess, bowing over her hand with a slight grin. Duchess shook her head, used to his rather extravagant ways. She'd known him a very long time actually; long before her engagement to Jack. That had been during one of her first 'assignments' from the old Queen, to cozy up to a Teashop owner that some suspected might be working with the Resistance. It was also one of the only times Duchess succeeded in lying to that same Queen. She owed the Resistance, and Hatter in particular, a debt of gratitude. Her parents had barely escaped an 'exile' very similar to that of Stephen's parents. Hatter had smuggled them away from the Suits' custody and down to the Great Library; Duchess hadn't seen them again until the fall of the Casino. Her parents now lived in a tiny little cottage on the edge of the Great Lake. It was strange to see the once glamorous Diamond nobles so comfortable in the country lifestyle, but then, Duchess herself was hardly the glitzy pampered courtier she had once been under the Queen's rule.

They'd all changed, she thought quietly, watching Cat and Alice talk and Hatter grin fondly at them both. All three Wonderlanders were more open than she guessed any of them ever thought they could be. It was amazing how the weight had dropped off the three of them once the Queen lost power. It was the same throughout Wonderland, too. The people of the realm were slowly coming to life again, once they were weaned off of the emotion teas.

"That's hopeful, isn't it," Hatter remarked quietly, his thoughts apparently echoing her own. They exchanged another smile, and then Hatter shook himself. "So, what's Himself called me here for then?"

Duchess hesitated. It was a tricky business, knowing just how much of Jack's story to tell.

"The King has a cousin who's not an Oyster but lived there a long long time but now he's fallen through the rabbit hole with a not-a-wocky and it's worrisome that he might be all ill and Oyster-ed without knowing it." Apparently Cat didn't find it tricky at all, Duchess thought wryly. Typical Cheshire.

Hatter blinked and shook his head for a moment as he untangled Kitty's explanation. Alice touched his shoulder, and he turned. They exchanged a silent communication Duchess could only envy, and then Hatter shrugged.

"A Wonderlander living in their world for how long?"

"Most of his life we think. The Queen sent he and his parents into exile when he was 4 years old." At Duchess's words, Hatter let out a long whoosh of breath.

"Well that is... interesting. Not sure what to make of it. Not just yet anyway." He shrugged apologetically.

"Of course. I imagine you'll need to meet Mr. Hart first. Shall we?" Duchess asked. When Hatter and Alice nodded, her hand sliding into his, Duchess tugged aside the tapestry and knocked twice against the door. A muffled call of 'Enter' had her opening the door and allowing Jack's guests to enter ahead of herself and Cat.

Jack and Stephen were standing by the bed, and to Duchess's confusion, Stephen looked as if he'd been struck over the head by the entrance of Jack's guest.

"Connor?" he asked, then suddenly grinned widely. The smile made the attractive man suddenly even more handsome. "Thank God, Connor!"

He took two steady steps forward and then pulled Hatter into a strong hug. Hatter merely stood here, his eyes wide and more than a little confused. He patted Stephen's back awkwardly, mouthing the word "What?" helplessly over Stephen's shoulder to Jack and Duchess.

Kitty just giggled.


	8. Of Introductions and Garden Parties

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just going by the pattern I had already established as far as POV, this chapter was SUPPOSED to be from Cat's point of view. Unfortunately, Kitty has been playing coy and just plain rude to me. I eventually had to just scrap the pitiful amount I'd managed in several month's of trying and start over in Jack's POV. At least I finally managed to get some forward momentum going right?

There was a moment of stunned silence, well silence other than the mad giggling from the Cheshire in the corner. Jack was almost amused by the view of a discomforted Hatter, but he wasn't nearly as fond of the thought of Stephen having yet another moment of confusion completely beyond his control. Hatter finally spoke, though Stephen was already backing away.

"Thanks for that welcome, mate, but I'm afraid I'm already spoken for and all," he smiled that aggravating smile as he backed up and waved toward his Alice, but Stephen didn't smile back.

"I believe he thinks you're someone else, Hatter," Duchess said and then leveled a disappointed stare at Cat. "Kitty, that was cruel."

The Cheshire's head shot up out of her hands, and her gaze darted back and forth, and then the little thing's face fell.

"But it wasn't meant to… she didn't try to. I didn't means it to be more than a funny thing and things, and I didn't mean to be cruel." She turned pleading eyes to Connor and then to Stephen who'd retreated to the bed. "Honest, I didn't. I'm not... I'm not-"

"It's alright, Cat me dear. All in fun, yeah?" Hatter interrupted her, and the Cheshire seemed relieved, though who could really be sure with that one. The former-tea shop owner moved to give Cat a one armed hug, then grinned and shrugged to Alice. "It's not like he's the only random bloke who's been hugging me lately now is he?"

Stephen raised an eyebrow at that one, and Alice shook her head and sighed.

"He ended up at a Pride Parade." Jack guessed that had something to do with Oysterlander slang, though the term wasn't ringing a bell. His cousin on the other hand scoffed a moment and then looked concerned.

"I'm not…"

"Oh no, of course not. Never said you were, mate." Hatter grinned again, and Jack felt relieved that once again, he and Stephen seemed about as confused as each other. "Just said you weren't the only bloke getting all touchy about me person. So who'd you think I actually was if you don't mind me asking?"

"It's a Connor. A Connor Temple, one half of bookends the other by the name of Abigail-don't-call-her-that-it's-Abby." Cat seemed to have gotten over at least some of her fear of reprisals and had taken it upon herself to answer for Stephen. Luckily he looked more bemused than annoyed. "Works with the Stephen in the ARC they do. The A-R-C not the A-r-k. Animals yes but not all two by two and too tidy like."

Once again Jack felt more than a little in the dark by whatever Oysterlander term Cat had clued into with this one, but Stephen seemed to had followed all of her rapid spate of trivia. He even seemed genuinely amused this time.

"Not too tidy at all. It'd be an understatement to say it's a mess at the ARC most days." Stephen ran a hand across his face looking suddenly exhausted. "And she's right, Abby and Connor were part of the team I worked with. And Connor is the one who's damned near identical to you." He pointed over at Hatter who waggled his eyebrows over at Alice. Jack just tried to ignore it.

"The Connor's younger than the Hatter though he is," Cat added, then wrinkled her brow. "Isn't he or isn't he? I thinks yes the Connor is. Yes yes yes." Her hand crept up to her head and she began to rock slightly, and just as Jack realized there might be something off about her appearance, Stephen was moving in and gently pulling her hand away from her face.

"Duchess, it seems someone's lost her gloves again." Stephen said it quietly, but the Cheshire still flinched as if she'd been struck.

"I didn't mean to and I don't knows where they went. Just ran off stupid things. The right never knew what the left's gotten up to. No sense in asking none at all." She shivered all over, and Duchess gathered her up in her arms again. "Methinks the Duchess over-doned it a bits. Just a bits or three." The Cheshire shuddered again and burrowed her way into her friend's embrace. "Too many too many in all one spots, I says. Too many thoughts and washy wishes and dreams all cluttering about the place." She tried to explain that to Duchess, straining to sound somewhat clear. Jack wanted to look away from the damned near pitiful sight, but it was almost impossible. "Should all spread out in the outside. Given the givens, the dreamy ones need room to stretch their legs. Yes?"

Jack hadn't a clue what she'd meant with that last bit, and he found himself at a loss. He watched as Duchess, Hatter, and Alice looked about the room at each other, trying to figure out what she'd said.

"She wants some air, and I do too. Any reason we all need to stand around in a bedroom?" Stephen finally broke in, impatience clear in his tone. Jack had half a mind to be offended by his cousin's attitude but thought better of it. He imagined he'd be just as brusque were the situation reversed.

"The garden would give plenty of room for all, I think. There's enough seating as well," Jack offered with a wave to the door, and after a shrug Hatter turned and dragged Alice with him out into the hallway. Cat and Duchess followed close behind, the Cheshire clearly anxious to be out of the now rather claustrophobic room. Considering the circumstances and the tea running through her blood stream, Jack didn't blame her. He'd never considered what a crowd of people would do to a Cheshire's gifts. It made his mother's use of the tribe even more cruel, forcing them into the sort of atmosphere that would cause them the most pain and anxiety. And being his mother, Jack figured she'd likely enjoyed that little side effect. Just one more way to prove she was in charge more than any mere servant. Than any mere slave really when it came to the Cheshire tribe.

He forced away thoughts of his mother as he followed Stephen out of the room and after the strolling group headed toward the Royal Gardens. Jack had enough family drama right in front of him, he mused, watching the way Stephen managed to move as if he wasn't wounded in the slightest, carefully hiding the weakness from anyone who might be watching. His cousin was alert too, his eyes taking in everything as they passed. Jack wouldn't be surprised if Stephen had the route memorized by the time they reached the Gardens, and even better, had several other routes figured out just by watching where they intersected with this one. Granted, this _was_ Wonderland, and some of those "clear paths" were likely nothing of the sort. Still, it was better than some Wonderlanders who'd lived their all their lives could manage. There was a reason every room had a bell pull and/or an intercom – without them, they'd likely lose a staff member per month to the rather haphazard designs of the place. They'd probably lose more than one in the longer months, he guessed.

He was actually surprised Hatter seemed so confident in his destination. The ex-pat Wonderlander and Alice were turning down corners as if they'd done it hundreds of times before. Perhaps more of the Resistance had been squatting here during his mother's reign than anyone might have thought. With the Great Library, that made two major hide outs she'd been unaware of. The thought tickled him a bit.

Jack followed his cousin around one last corner and then out the double doors a pair of Suits were holding open. The sun was shining, and with something like relief and joy, he lifted his face up to the warmth. It seemed like months since he'd gotten outside instead of barely a day since fetching yon Cheshire from the Hospital of Dreams.

Perhaps the mad little thing was on to something with her desire to escape the closed in room where Stephen had been sequestered. _She_ was certainly reveling in the open air, turning somersaults and then just falling backwards onto the grass with a boisterous laugh. Hatter looked tempted to join in on the antics, but a quick shake of Alice's head had him sitting on a bench with a disappointed huff.

The rest of the group drifted his direction, dragging over chairs or benches as they chose. Jack was surprised to see Stephen sink down to the grass near Cat; he hadn't thought his cousin would be able to move quite that easily let alone choose such an uncomfortable spot. It didn't stay uncomfortable for long though, Jack was bemused to see. As Stephen settled himself, Cat sprang up from her sprawl across the lawn and moved to steal cushions from some of the unclaimed seating scattered about the garden. She returned looking nothing so much like a giant pile of pillows. The Cheshire dumped her spoils beside the wounded man, and between the two of them, they managed to arrange the cushions until Stephen could recline himself as easily as he had back in the bedroom. She stood back to survey her job well done and then nodded sharply.

"There. That's better is it isn't it?" She plopped down on a cushion of her own, crossing her legs and propping her elbows on her knees, then resting her chin in her hands. "It's nice as nice out here good, Heart Sir. I offer compliments and cakes to the gardeners and all! Only not the cakes as I hasn't any but if I dids I'd given them out to anyone as wants them I would."

Jack managed to keep the discomfort off his face as he nodded politely at the Cheshire's announcement. She was right after all; the gardeners had done a spectacular job making this part of the Royal Gardens comfortable and welcoming. He might not offer cakes, but perhaps some sort of recognition was due. He made a mental note to have 10 put together a list of what sort of things would be appropriate in such a situation.

"Cake is always appropriate…" Cat muttered, only just loud enough for Jack and his cousin to hear, and Jack was less than amused to hear Stephen chuckle a little. Must he encourage the Cheshire? "Yes, yes he musted so there she says."

"So," he said, in an effort to bring a close to the various side conversations that had been going on as every one settled themselves in their chosen spots, "Hatter, I gather Duchess has already informed you of why you were needed?"

"That she did. Something about the effects of the Oysterland on a Wonderlander on a more permanent basis, yeah?" Jack and Duchess both nodded in response to Hatter almost as one, and Hatter went on without pausing for them to insert any kind of clarification. "So, to be perfectly honest and considering all the facts as I see them and have experienced with the lovely Alice beyond the Looking Glass… Well, I haven't a clue what the aforementioned effects might turn out to be. Haven't lived there long enough."

As his words sunk in and he shrugged almost cheekily, Jack sighed. Why had he expected this to be any simpler than anything else had been thus far? He risked Duchess's wrath to glare at the Cheshire who was staring off into the space around Hatter and Stephen by turns

"Tell me, Cat. Why exactly did you demand I send for Hatter if he isn't able to answer any of our questions?"

She didn't answer for a long moment, almost long enough for Jack to reach the end of his patience. Then she turned her gaze to him and grinned wide.

"Because now that he's here, _I_ can answers your questions."


End file.
